


Feeling Gravity's Pull

by fitzhuu



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Resistance Member Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzhuu/pseuds/fitzhuu
Summary: Part of a spontaneous swap that JessKo and I discussed in Discord. I have no idea where this is going, or if will actually lead anywhere, but it's my first piece of writing in a long while! Also, Armie is alive!Tags, summary, etc. will be added and fleshed out when I have an idea of where this might go. Sit tight!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Feeling Gravity's Pull

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JessKo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessKo/gifts).

> Part of a spontaneous swap that JessKo and I discussed in Discord. I have no idea where this is going, or if will actually lead anywhere, but it's my first piece of writing in a long while! Also, Armie is alive!
> 
> Tags, summary, etc. will be added and fleshed out when I have an idea of where this might go. Sit tight!

Though Armitage had seen the vast blackness of space for himself, the blue sky above him seemed to stretch even further, to the heavens. The scene was peaceful and serene, punctuated by the sounds of exotic animals he couldn’t yet name… but the stillness disturbed him all the same. He was so used to the padding of feet, the clanging of metal, the beeps of control panels that the natural environment of D’Qar left a lingering anxiety in his chest, and no amount of walking about this beautiful planet would clear his head or his heart enough for it to go away.

It’d been about six months since he’d turned - a rough estimate at best, given how his hair had grown. An A-wing whistled far overhead as he caught his reflection in a puddle, noting the slight scruff and wild hair that now defined his face, made even more red by the fiery sun setting in the distance. Hardly regulation. Saying it didn’t bother him would be a lie - order, in every sense, was part of him, in his bones and blood, in his _heritage_. What he’d done to get here often made him bristle, but his conscience knew better. It was right, it was real, this ragtag group who’d somehow bested the mythical Palpatine and the entire First Order, and now he was part of it. 

He ran a gloved hand through his hair before squatting to the ground. Through the nearest patch of trees, he could make out some lights belonging to the base. Flashing. Beckoning. What next? It was the question on everyone’s mind. The last several months had been dedicated to rebuilding the fleet, training up pilots to replace those lost, and falling in line with General Dameron’s strategy for the future. But what was it all for? He wanted structure, a new Republic, and he knew he wasn’t alone. The thought of the pilot Poe Dameron in charge made him scowl, made him uneasy, even. How could he fall under the leadership of someone who, upon arrival, had told everyone to call him “Hugs”? Armitage plucked the grass, letting the blades fall through his fingers before standing up again. _Please._

He’d just turned when the rustle of footsteps alerted him. The heel of his boot dug into the dirt as a face emerged from the shadows. Lean, dark, quizzical. Thea Firrin, now a notable pilot in Blue Squadron, stared back at him, a half-smirk tugging at her lips.

“What are you doing out here, Hugs? Looking for trouble?”

“What do you think?” He shot back, more icily than intended. The name still stung and he knew many of the pilots still didn’t trust him. Plus, he didn’t really have an answer. “I just… I needed a walk, Firrin.”

“You know,” she began boldly as she stepped closer, hand fastened to her hip. “It would probably be good for you to not go off on your own so much. People still think--”

“I know what people think.” He suddenly wished Phasma were here, if only to have a confidante.

Thea sighed, exasperated. Her smirk was already gone as she tugged at the braid at her back.

“Someone stole my sandwich, you know.”

The pilot cocked her head. “What?”

“Someone stole my sandwich. From my rations.”

A tense silence hung in the air. Then a rumble emitted from his throat, through his nose. A chuckle. A giggle. Finally, he was laughing. He felt the lines of his face crack as if he was made of stone.

When he looked up, he realized she was laughing too. She had a hearty laugh, one that reminded him of someone in the Academy so long ago.

“I guess it’s really quite stupid when I say it aloud,” he admitted, placing his hand on his brow.

“You sound like you’ve never laughed in your life,” she quipped. “Any suspects?”

Armitage shook his head, though the first comment held some truth to it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him smirk, let alone laugh. The feeling felt foreign in his belly.

“Maybe one. Think I could get that general of ours into any trouble? Charge him with theft?” He asked, nodding towards the direction of the base.

“Fat chance. After all the stuff he’s pulled and the mess here...” There was a hint of resentment in her voice. Clearly everyone didn’t like Poe Dameron as much as he might’ve imagined. “But maybe we could try.”

“I might take you up on that.” He was more relaxed now, he realized, pulling slightly in a shoulder that had slackened. “But…” His gaze set on the sun briefly, his green eyes glimmering in the light. “We should go back.”

As soon as she nodded, the two of them turned back in silence, walking in stride but also several feet apart as Armitage tugged on his gloves. Did other people think and behave as she did? Most of the pilot squadrons were boys’ clubs, and they were the source of most distrust and ridicule. But he hadn’t given much thought to others… others who may have been unhappy or insecure now that the fight was over and won. Though he never admitted nor planned to admit it to anyone, he couldn’t even be fully content with that win - not only did it go against everything he’d been raised to believe, but it had simply ended with disorganized results. He thought about the pieces scattered, dying to be organized. He despised it, but also felt suddenly enlightened and strangely optimistic because of this brief exchange.

Once they passed the boundaries of the base, he gave his companion an awkward smile and a salute of thanks. If people were feeling it was all just as chaotic as it seemed, perhaps he had something to contribute after all.


End file.
